Treasured Family
by Tsarina Torment
Summary: Scott's day hadn't gone well, and was about to get worse. John doesn't care for that, and Alan makes a good accomplice. Post-Episode Tag for 3.22 "Buried Treasure"
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Thunderbirds_**

_Spoilers for 3.22 "Buried Treasure"_

Today, John mused as he carefully stayed quiet on the comms, had not been Scott's day. Even now, the rescue long finished, Scraps and her, well, scraps, deposited safely away from WRMs (and with promises to hit Gordon up first when she sold the outdated tech), the comms were full of nothing but frosty silence. The lack of _anything_ at all from Thunderbird Two, when usually Gordon never shut up and Virgil despite his complaints enabled the noise rather than silencing it, was an indication that both brothers had yet to forgive Scott for the chaos that had been a successful yet unsuccessful mission.

The apologies from Thunderbird One had long since petered out into an awkward and slightly upset silence. It was unusual to say the least for Scott to seem unsure about anything, but even Thunderbird One wasn't quite flying right – an awkward speed somewhere between keeping pace with Two and leaving her behind. Their eldest brother couldn't work out if he needed to try and keep mending bridges, or let things settle first.

This wasn't going to be resolved by the time they got home. Muting his end of the channel with his flying brothers, John floated over to open a new channel directly to Alan. The youngest needed warning of the black cloud approaching at approximately Mach 2, if only to know to stay out of the way, or at least to not wind any of the brothers up more than they were already.

Truthfully, John didn't consider Scott at fault for anything that had happened. Not really, anyway. Maybe he should have listened to Gordon about not taking the mint condition figure out of the box, but the sink hole was more or less entirely the WRM's fault and, if he was honest, John's. Scott had been an unwilling passenger in what, for him, had been a disaster of a rescue through and through. The one who had told Gordon where to surface, and consequently where to lead the WRM, had been their very own Eye in the Sky, because John cared less about well-sculpted topiaries and more about his brothers not being munched by a mechanical monster.

It was telling how upset Gordon was about the figure that he hadn't pointed that out to Virgil, who was intent on taking out all of his artist's ire on their eldest and genuinely didn't know who had decided where they should surface. John had considered taking the heat off of Scott and admitting that himself, but while that might endear him to Scott, getting involved meant picking a side, willingly or not. It would do less to clear Scott's name and more to invoke a full on battle with the lines drawn at a fair two on two.

John didn't want a battle. Not now, when things were finally going right and Scott was somehow finding moments to be _not_ stressed out of his mind. Virgil and Gordon might be fuming away at ruined antiques and foliage, but John couldn't get the image of Scott playing with the figure, even if it was just something as small as pulling the stretchy arms, out of his head. When was the last time Scott had _played_ with anything? More than that, he'd gone out of his way to apologise to the gardener, attempted to stop Two from causing more damage, and refused to use the Mole Pod where it would wreck the lawn. The Scott of barely a week ago would never have done any of that, forging his way through with the mission and ignoring anything not directly relevant.

The old Scott, the one from when Dad was still around and he didn't have the weight of the world on his shoulders, had attempted to resurface. To John, that was worth a ruined collectable and destroyed bushes – and in a few hours, once they'd cooled off, he knew his brothers would agree.

Unfortunately, that wouldn't do anything for Scott's bad day in the meantime. Brains was rightfully delighted about his successful battle with the Hood, even if there was that one problematic issue amongst the otherwise perfect result, but John didn't think that would do anything towards sparing Scott the wrath of the engineer for the loss of yet _another_ pod. Again, not his fault, but like Virgil and Gordon, Brains wasn't going to care that much about that. Then, Mechanic's bad news would probably shatter whatever remained of Scott's temporary stress-free mood and they'd be back to square one.

John didn't particularly care to see that too soon. He re-opened the line to Alan.

**As far as my chaptered fics go, this has very short chapters. Then again it was supposed to be a drabble. Whoops.**

**I got feels from Scott's behaviour in today's episode okay.**

**Thanks for reading!  
Tsari**


	2. Chapter 2

Alan loved missions, and as far as they went, John's latest assignment for him was one of the best. It certainly beat the homework he'd been reluctantly trawling though up until the call. It was simple, and the only thing that it was missing to make it _the_ best was Thunderbird Three.

"Virgil and Gordon are furious with Scott," John had told him earlier. "Things are a bit frosty right now, try not to get involved." Bickering brothers, wonderful. Hardly a new experience for him, but never much fun. Playing peacemaker when you were the youngest and not really taken seriously was a difficult task.

Now, though, John had changed his mind.

"You know what," he'd said, reappearing five minutes later at the same time the unmistakable sound of One's engines purred into distant hearing. "Scratch that. I'll handle Gordon and Virgil. You take Scott."

Scott, apparently for once innocent of all crimes except a minor one regarding that junk Gordon collected – he'd been sworn to secrecy on that one years ago, but apparently it wasn't a secret any more – needed protecting from the ire of younger brothers. Unusual, but any excuse for some one on one time with his always-busy eldest brother was nothing to be sniffed at. Alan didn't remember Dad like the others did, the little things slipping from his mind no matter how hard he fought to retain them, but he did remember when Scott switched from big brother to family head. Hard not to, when one of the first things he'd done was pull him out of boarding school and back to the island.

From the sound of One's engines, there was maybe two minutes before the pool pulled back, and another one before One settled back in her refuelling bay and Scott left her. He attacked his homework with renewed vigour, tearing through the last question in a hurry before hurtling down to the hangar. He heard Grandma shout something about running in the house, but One was filling the view out of the front windows as she gently returned to her launch and he had to get there before Scott.

Two's engines were audible in the distance now, too. John had mentioned Scott's awkward not quite keeping pace, and Alan subconsciously logged the unusual time gap between the two craft's return even as he burst onto the platform, bouncing up and down on his feet as the rollers brought One to a stop and the refuelling process automatically began.

It felt like forever before the loading ramp extended and Scott stepped out onto it. His uniform was slightly scuffed, spattered with earth, and he looked troubled. Alan was having none of that.

"Hey, Scott!" he called, reaching out to grab his brother's arm as the ramp retracted and brought him closer.

"Alan?" Confused blue eyes looked down at him and Alan grinned back. "Shouldn't you be doing your homework?"

Without his permission, his grin turned into a pout.

"I'm _done_," he whined, resolution to cheer Scott up temporarily fading as a sceptical eyebrow raised. "I am!"

"Will Grandma agree if I ask her?"

Oh yes, _this _was the bad thing about being home schooled. Scott and John acting like nagging parents over school work.

"Check it yourself if you don't believe me," he sulked, starting to turn away before realising what he said. _Alan Tracy you are a genius_.

"Maybe I will." Scott was trying to make it sound like a threat; the old trick designed to catch him out if he was lying about getting things done. Too bad this time it was all going according to Alan's hastily-composed and totally intentionally laid plan to get Scott away from the landing Thunderbird Two and her grumpy pilots.

Of _course_ he'd had a plan to get Scott away from the others, and the desk he seemed to be glued to most of the time. He just had to make it _seem_ spur of the moment so Scott fell for it, okay?

"Lead the way," his biggest brother said, still wearing that mud-splattered uniform and seeming uninterested in changing out of it any time soon. Fine by Alan. "I lost a pod and Brains is going to be after my head."

Alan winced in solidarity. He remembered the chewing out he got for losing astroboards once. _Another_ pod to add to the growing tally would not please Brains one bit.

Together they abandoned the hanger, Scott traipsing mud all through the house as they snuck past Grandma concocting a new toothbuster in the kitchen and up past the den where the eyes on John's picture were gleaming slightly brighter than the other portraits'. Miraculously unstopped by anyone, they reached the haven of Alan's room and collapsed onto the floor together.

Despite his earlier threat, Scott made no move to check the holoprojector where the last of Alan's homework still glittered, instead staying flat out on the floor. Alan took the unintended invitation to flop on top of him, getting mud on his top but successfully ensuring that his eldest brother wouldn't be leaving the room any time soon.

"Hey, Scott?" he said after a few moments of silence, his brother's slightly laboured breathing under him the only sound in the room.

"What?"

Alan reached out for his console.

"I beat your high score on _Sky High Racing_."

He grinned as Scott snatched the controller.

**I don't understand teenage boys; getting inside Alan's head for this was one of the trickier characterisations I've ever done in fanfic but I'm reasonably happy with the result.**

**I also suck at video game names.**

**Thanks for reading!  
Tsari**


	3. Chapter 3

When Scott wasn't waiting in the den for a debrief, Gordon's scowl deepened. Behind him, banging away at the poor piano in a way that almost made him wince, Virgil made his own displeasure at their eldest brother's absence known. They knew Scott was home – Thunderbird One hadn't been so far ahead of them that they hadn't seen her land, and a trail of mud Grandma was muttering at darkly leading from her hanger up towards the bedrooms plainly stated where he had gone.

Scott was hiding from them, and Gordon's frustration at him bubbled higher. Why did Scott bother hanging back with Two uncomfortably if he was going to ignore them as soon as they got home? If he needed his space to come to terms with why exactly he'd messed up, why hadn't he zoomed off at Mach ridiculous to sulk before they got back?

Of course, it wasn't that simple, and Gordon knew it. While Virgil fumed about inconsiderate brothers and insincere apologies, Gordon was well aware that the genuine culprit for his grievances was out of reach. He was just too mad at Scott for wrecking that one of a kind find to _play_ with it. There were plenty of toys they could _play_ with if he so desired. So maybe he was playing Virgil against Scott as part of his own vengeance, but he was getting fed up of Scott not _listening_ to him.

"Hey guys."

Gordon blinked up at the hologram of his second eldest brother, who had materialised all of a sudden for no apparent reason. No _International Rescue, we have a situation_. Just _hey guys_.

His squid sense pickled.

"Not in the mood, John," Virgil grunted, not stopping his staccato rendition of… something. One of those pieces Gordon recognised but hell if you asked him to name it.

"Your topiary wasn't Scott's fault, you know," John pointed out, blunt and tactless in his annoying way. "I'm the one that told Gordon where to surface."

The piano didn't stop.

"I know," Virgil replied, a throwaway comment at odds with the angry piano. "I was still in the comms loop."

"Wait, what?" Gordon cut in, startled. He'd been sure Virgil was mad at Scott for that. What else did he even have to be mad at him about, if not the destruction of his art? Virgil _always_ got foul after his art got ruined – a lesson he'd learnt the hard way.

"'_The good news is the emergency's over_'," Virgil mimicked. "Do you know how long it took me to calm the gardener down? And then Scott comes in and puts his foot in it and everything's back to square one."

"Tact has never been Scott's strong point," John pointed out. "You know this, Virgil."

"What are you trying to say, Johnny?" Gordon cut in, his squid sense still tingling away. "There's more to this than just us being mad at Scott. It's not like you to intervene when you know this'll all blow over in a few hours."

Sure, he was mad at Scott. And he really needed to have a talk with Scott about being listened to because a super rare collectable is one thing, but not being taken seriously on a mission is another entirely. He's still not entirely over Four being buried in sea sludge.

But they're family and he knows Scott's trying. It's impossible to stay truly mad at Scott for long when in a few hours he'll get up for a glass of water in the middle of the night and find him passed out at the desk because he's working himself too hard again.

John didn't protest at being called _Johnny_. The tingle turned into a full blown pins and needles.

The piano stopped.

"Brains freed the Mechanic while you were gone," John said, apropos of nothing. Unrelated. Except this was John and there's always a point with John, even if it's obscure. "The good news is that it worked."

"And the bad?" Virgil asked when he paused, flopping down on the sofa beside Gordon. A united front against older brothers, even if one of them was still notably absent from the conversation.

"The Hood found out about the T-Drive."

Well, _shit_. Gordon clenched his fist. Beside him, Virgil inhaled sharply.

"Scott knows?" his immediate brother asked. Gordon blinked when John shook his head.

"Not yet."

"He'd want to know." Virgil raked a hand through his gelled hair. Not a strand left its rigid positioning – Virgil liked to point out how much effort Scott put into his own hair, but Gordon knew who the real hair diva of the family was.

"I know."

Gordon squinted at John. His squid sense was still bothered.

"He's going to blow a fuse when he finds out you told us first," he pointed out. "Why?"

John rubbed his face, a tic he'd picked up from Scott years ago when particularly weary about something. He didn't use it anywhere near as much as Scott.

"Because today was the first time I've seen Scott _happy_ in too long," he finally caved. "Since the Mechanic agreed to help us he's been sleeping better and his stress levels have reduced slightly. He _played_ with that toy, Gordon."

Oh yes, Gordon was well aware of _that_. Taking a mint condition ancient collector's item out of its box was taboo yet Scott had torn it open without a second thought and immediately started to pull at its arms and watch it bounce back in delight. He'd looked like Alan then, for a moment.

Suddenly he realised what John was trying to say.

"I'm still mad about the figure," he said, crossing his arms. "I mean, come _on_. That was a once in a lifetime find! Who even _does_ that?"

"I really am sorry I didn't take you seriously, Gordon."

He whirled around, hearing a muffled curse from Virgil as his brother did the same next to him. Scott was still in his uniform, far more splattered with mud than he remembered him being, but then again he'd been too busy talking with Scraps – and too mad at Scott – to really look at him after the mission. It seemed like being on the outside of the Dragonfly while the WRM chased them was far rougher than Scott had let on. Alan was bouncing beside him, controller clutched in one hand. It had traces of mud on it, too. Clearly their youngest brother had been on distraction duty.

"And Virgil," Scott was still talking. "I'm sorry your peacemaking with the gardener got ruined. And your… tree sculpture."

"_Topiary,_" Virgil corrected, crossing his arms. "Next time, leave the bystanders to me. Or Gordon. Or even _Alan_."

"Hey!"

Scott chuckled, a sound Gordon had heard far too little of recently now John had him thinking about it.

"I can do that."

**I am a firm believer that Virgil purposefully stayed on the surface to pacify the gardener, and that him learning topiary was no happy accident but rather his attempt to smooth things over (successful until the sink hole). Also Scott not listening to Gordon is becoming a trend and needs to stop, Scott.**

**Scott's improvement is about to get reversed badly when he finds out about the Hood, but that's not a story for this fic. Grandma is also definitely going to make him clean up that mud but I couldn't fit that in nicely here.**

**Maybe I'll write more about this episode at some point, who knows. So much stuff to unpack!**

**Thanks for reading!  
****Tsari**


End file.
